


kiss me like you did (my heart stopped beating)

by cherryvanilla



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 01:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Seemed to stop my breath.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me like you did (my heart stopped beating)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youcouldmakealife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/gifts).



Ian hasn’t been afraid of Mickey since they hooked up that first time. He never would have dreamed the encounter would have ended the way it did, with the air feeling as though it’d been sucked out of the room and Mickey hastily lifting off his shirt while Ian scrambled to do the same. He’d gotten hard in an instant, probably had been as soon as Mickey sat on top of him. They’d jerked each other off and rutted together and Ian wasn’t sure if he’d ever been that hard in his life, running on a mix of adrenaline and pure, feral lust. Mickey was dangerous and forbidden, even more so than a married guy with a family. He loved the thrill of sneaking around with him, right under the noses of his dad and Mandy. He also found himself ridiculously charmed by Mickey’s tough guy exterior. Like when he’d say ‘hey douchebags’ on the way to his room yet when Ian went inside he was hard already with his jeans sliding down past his thighs, his lips twitching in a dirty smirk. Ian sucked him off, aware that Mandy could knock on the door at any second or completely ignore the ‘stay the fuck out’ sign and walk in. After Mickey came, biting his fist, Ian was pressed against his body while Mickey fisted his dick and Ian breathed in his scent. They hadn’t kissed yet – Ian not entirely sure he was joking about that initial threat even though it amused him nonetheless. Ian found himself thinking about it all the time – what Mickey would taste like, feel like.

He was pretty sure he was the first guy Mickey’s been with, or at least gone all the way with if their first time was anything to go by. It took forever with Ian braced behind him trying not to lose it while Mickey’s tight ass adjusted to the feel of his cock. The sex was incredible and Ian couldn’t stop thinking about him, the way his face would get flushed, the way he’d suck in a breath and moan for more. They didn’t speak afterward but they caught each other glancing over while they caught their breath. Then they played X-box like nothing had just happened, like it hadn’t been the greatest sex Ian’s had thus far.

So it was a bootycall thing, even if Mickey wouldn’t even admit that and Ian kind of resigned himself to being ‘that guy.’ The guy that people just wanted to get off with, the one that other guys lusted over yet didn’t want anything serious with. He didn’t understand how he fell into that role; maybe he wore some kind of gay slut sign around his neck. Whatever the reason, he wasn’t exactly complaining yet at the same time he knew he felt something with Mickey that wasn’t there with Kash. Mickey’s mere presence made him smile. He found himself incomprehensibly giddy around him. Sometimes, Mickey would let his guard down as well. Like the rare occasions they actually got to fuck in Mickey’s bed – Ian braced over him, thrusting into the heat of his ass while Mickey moaned and grunted and held him by the arms as he pressed himself down harder. A few times, when they came and Ian collapsed on top of him, Mickey didn’t push him away; just held him loosely, as if too boneless to move and Ian dared a press of lips to his collarbone.

Mickey just sighed and eventually pushed at him to, ‘get the fuck off, I’m a mess,’ and would stand on unsteady legs that Ian pretended not to notice and wipe the come off his stomach with a dirty t-shirt. They smoked in Mickey’s room and talked about school and their fathers and how fucked up life was in general. Mostly Mickey just listened to Ian and pretended not to really care or even be paying attention but Ian knew better, especially when they shared a look of sympathy and understanding.

When he learned the news about Monica his chest felt tight, like he was having a panic attack. He ran and kept running, feeling lost and out of control as the tears began to build behind his eyelids. He knew where he was going – it wasn’t like the movies when someone ran and ran and then discovered they were headed somewhere they didn’t realize they wanted to be. He felt desperate by the time he knocked on Mickey’s door and told him he didn’t know where else to go. It was true – but he also knew it was where he wanted to be. Even more than that; it was what he needed.

The look on Mickey’s face shifted from casual disinterest/curiosity to something akin to concern. Ian was too overwhelmed to analyze it right now but he did pick up on the anxious and serious nature of Mickey’s words when he told him he’d meet him at work in 20 minutes.

He was already waiting in the back, shuffling his feet, when Mickey arrived,. Mickey shed his jacket and threw it on the shelf behind him next to Ian’s own.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ian knew he was going for nonchalance but it didn’t come out that way.

Ian shook his head, breathing in sharply and tugging Mickey towards him. “I can’t, I just. Please.”

Mickey searched his face, lips pursed in a frown, eyebrows knitted together. “Whatever, Gallagher,” he said, yet the words were soft. Ian pressed his fingers to the back of Mickey’s neck, gripping tightly and leaning forward, his gaze trained to Mickey’s lips.

“What the fuck?” Mickey said again, voice high and slightly nervous.

“Please,” Ian repeated, licking his lips slowly. Mickey’s pupils were wide, his expression uncertain. Then, ever so slowly, he closed the gap between them. Ian gasped at the first touch of his mouth. It was, in fact, exactly like the movies this time, complete with fireworks and lightening bolts; the only thing missing was the rain. Mickey’s lips parted beneath his and what started out as tentative and slow quickly dissolved into brutal and desperate. Mickey’s tongue in his mouth felt better than he’d thought. He kissed like he wanted to devour Ian, claim him, own him. Ian found himself holding onto his shoulders for dear life and hitching his leg around Mickey’s waist. Mickey palmed his thigh slow and lewd before pushing him back into the shelves and stripping off Ian’s shirt for him.

“I want you in me,” he breathed out, voice rough. Ian just reached for him again even as the words made his cock twitch painfully. He loved, for all of Mickey’s bravado, how much he honestly enjoyed having a dick up his ass.

“Good, because I need to fuck you right now,” he mumbled against Mickey’s neck, too impatient to undress him. He looked around for what they could use for lube, found a bottle of olive oil on one of the shelves. Mickey was already braced against the shelf, pants and underwear down around his ankles. Ian dropped his own pants after removing a condom from his wallet. He palmed Mickey’s ass and kissed the back of his neck.

“Get on with it,” Mickey griped. Ian laughed softly to himself, already forgetting about everything going on in his life, losing himself to just this moment, just the two of them. He started fucking into Mickey hard after some brief preparation, despite what he’d said. The shelves shook around them, Ian’s hips thrusting upward sharply and his eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of Mickey’s ass squeezing around him. Mickey’s moans were loud, unabashed, and they made Ian even harder. He pulsed inside Mickey’s body, breathing against his shoulder, his hand closing over Mickey’s as he gripped the shelf tightly. He felt his heart stop in that moment, realized it could mean something, focus narrowed to how perfectly their fingers fit together.

Mickey’s moans grew louder while Ian couldn’t stop the ‘oh’s’ and ‘uh’s’ that fell from his lips.

“Oh yeah, harder,” Mickey said, his voice barely audible around the shallow puffs of air. Ian obliged, saw the sweat pooling on the side of Mickey’s face, was just about to slide his lips across his cheek and dare claim his mouth in another kiss when the door opened and they looked back to find Kash watching, shocked. Ian pulled out immediately and then Mickey was gone in a flash. He couldn’t even think of anything to say, all he wanted was Mickey back, to finish making him feel the way he needed right now.

After that it was all a hazy blur of Mickey getting shot, Ian beside him on the floor and the ambulance taking him away. He got a phone call from Mickey that he was in juvvy and might be there for a year. Ian felt his throat close up. “Why don’t you just fucking tell him that it had nothing to do with a robbery? That he’s a fucking jealous ex-boyfriend?”

Mickey snorted. “So now he’s your ex? And fuck that shit, I ain’t admitting I’m a fag.”

Ian squeezed his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

There was a slight pause. “I’m fine, Gallagher. I’ll see ya around.” Then the phone went dead and Ian leaned back on his bed, hoping he’d be alone for at least a little while.

Ian visited him a few days later. He smiled to himself when he realized how blasé Mickey was acting, looking off to the side, only sneaking glances at Ian. He was onto him by now.

He couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face at Mickey’s reaction to his saying that he missed him. The half-grin he received in return made his stomach flip stupidly. He wasn’t supposed to be the guy who put his hand up the glass, wasn’t supposed to have this sea-sick feeling every time he looked at Mickey. He was the casual fuck, the one older guys apparently loved to screw but didn’t really date, didn’t claim as their one and only. He wasn’t supposed to want more than that.

He hoped Mickey would get out sooner, couldn’t fathom a year with a pane of glass between them and moreover, wasn’t sure if Mickey would want him around if he wasn’t able to suck his cock. Still, Mickey kept staring at him at odd angles, eyes searching, and Ian thought maybe this wasn’t the end.

Maybe it was their beginning.


End file.
